


Slow the Rain

by phoenix089



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century
Genre: And it's adorable, But clearly fond of one another, But his actions make it obvious, Fluff that can be equated to Marshmallow kittens in fluffy rainbow sweaters, John simply cannot get along with chip and pin machines, M/M, Not quite a couple, Pre-Slash, Pure Unadulterated Fluff, Sherlock can't admit he's in love, Short drabble is short, Sly Sherlock is unintentionally sly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2012-09-23
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:57:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenix089/pseuds/phoenix089
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contrary to popular belief, Sherlock is fully aware of when John leaves, he just chooses to ignore it. Until it starts to rain, that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> As I was watching Waifu draw, this scenario occured to me, and I simply couldn't resist writing it.  
> I hope that you'll be able to enjoy the fluff! I know it made my heart melt to write it ♥♥
> 
> \---
> 
> Title comes from one of Ingrid Michaelson's albums. For no reason other than the fact that it seemed appropriate.

The fact that people believed he was unaware of when John left the apartment was utterly absurd. He was all too aware of when John leaves, right to the very second. He simply chooses to disregard his absence and carry on as though he were still there, because the idea that John has left him – Even for ten minutes – is a thought that Sherlock refuses to acknowledge 

As a pattering breaks his reverie, Sherlock looks out the window and frowns with distaste. Sometime in the past twelve minutes and twenty seconds since John had left to do the groceries, it had begun to rain. No, not just rain. It had begun to absolutely pour, blurring the view of anything outside that was not the rain. 

Teal eyes slid from the window, over to the bucket sitting by the doorway. There were two umbrella’s sitting in the canister. Sighing, Sherlock packed his violin away, and shrugged on his coat and scarf. He didn't think that John had remembered to take his umbrella, which was awfully careless of him - He was well aware of how fickle London weather could be. Bright and sunny one moment, and cold and miserable the next. 

As he snatched one of the umbrella’s up, Sherlock quickly calculated where John ought to be considering the time he’d been left and the amount he had to pick up. Taking into account the cold weather and mundane task, both of which would have surely exacerbated the psychosomatic limp … He cursed as he came to the conclusion that John was either having an argument with a chip and pin machine (Pity. Sherlock rather enjoyed watching John get frazzled with the technology), or he’d bypassed the self-serve and instead went to a manned checkout (Sherlock scowled as he considered the possibility that John was flirting with yet another dull woman from Tesco), which meant he may have already begun the trek home in the downpour. 

Neglecting to pull the door of 221B shut behind him in his haste, Sherlock darted down the stairs two at a time and took off down the street to John’s favourite Tesco, umbrella clutched tightly in his hand. It was only as he was standing outside the automatic doors of the convenience store, searching for that familiar head of sandy-brown hair, that Sherlock realised he really ought to have opened up the umbrella on his way there. Now, he was soaked through, his coat was rather heavy on his shoulders from the added weight, and it was likely that he’d ruined his shirt, which was unfortunate since he’d developed an irrational fondness for the sky-blue shirt. 

On the other hand … That meant John would probably spend the rest of the afternoon fussing over him to make sure he didn’t develop a cold.

Sherlock’s eyes shifted from the damp material on his chest, to the doors as they opened, and he bit down on the inside of his lip to prevent them from quirking into a grin as John walked out, his cheeks red with embarrassment and frustration, and his mouth pulled into a disgruntled frown. Apparently, he’d attempted to brave the self serve and got into an argument with the automated machine again. It was a shame that Sherlock hadn't had the chance to walk inside and witness the argument for himself. 

The fuming Doctor’s frown vanished as his lips parted with surprise at the sight of Sherlock soaked to the bone, waiting for him. 

“Sherlock?” he asked uncertaintly as he shifted the bags in his hands. Sherlock supposed he ought to offer to carry some of them … Instead, he made a show of shaking the umbrella out and held it over John before he could step into the rain. 

“It started to rain,” Sherlock murmured with a shrug, and he rather hoped that John would mistake the absurd flush in his cheeks as a result of the cold instead of … whatever else it was. 

Curiously, the red of John’s blush deepened a shade at the words, and Sherlock filed that particular reaction away for further study. Right then, he _was_ getting rather cold, and the shivers he couldn’t control were starting to annoy him, so he began to walk, forcing John to run a few steps to ensure that he stayed under the shelter of the umbrella.

And, if they were given curious looks on their way, or if John was walking close enough that their arms brushed with every step, it was hardly any concern of Sherlock’s. 

Just as it was a complete coincidence that one of the umbrellas in the bin by the door disappeared, ensuring that Sherlock would have to come collect John whenever it was raining. A complete coincidence …. That he had absolutely nothing to do with.


End file.
